


The Order of Merlin and Morgana

by Gemfae



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Consensual Underage Sex, Conspiring Adults, Draco and Harry are 16, Good Malfoy Family, M/M, Minor Character Death, Underage Bonding, Well-Meaning Dumbledore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-09-07 14:52:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8805172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gemfae/pseuds/Gemfae
Summary: In Sixth Year, a few days before the Winter Holidays, Harry finds himself with Professor McGonagall as his new guardian, and ends up trapped in a room with Draco. The two rivals discover that McGonagall and Narcissa are part of an ancient society, The Order of Merlin and Morgana, which accepts both Light and Dark Wizards. The Order recently discovered "The Ritual", designed by Merlin and Morgana, which grants two individuals the power to defeat a threat to the Wizarding World. The ritual requires a representative of the Dark and the Light to bond, and guess who have just been volunteered?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [digthewriter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/digthewriter/gifts).



> Merry Christmas to you, Digthewriter! I was so excited to receive you as one of my giftees, because I love your work. I tried to incorporate some of your requests, such as forced proximity and angst, and this thing really got away from me. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

December 14

Harry sat on his bed in the Gryffindor dorm, staring numbly at the letter in his hand. He had always known something like this might one day happen, but he’d never thought it would happen like this, via a cold, impersonal letter delivered to him just before the start of the Christmas holidays. Harry was only lucky that he had been alone when the letter was delivered; the rest of his dorm was at supper, but Harry had skipped because he wasn't feeling hungry and he still had to finish packing so that he could spend Christmas with the Weasley’s. The idea popped into his head that maybe it was a joke from the twins, so Harry lifted the letter and re-read it:

_‘Vernon and I have been discussing what happened last summer and we have come to a decision; we will no longer allow you in our house. I have contacted your ministry and signed all the necessary paperwork to relinquish my guardianship over you, so where you go now is up to them; I could honestly care less. In the envelope you will find a pendant that belonged to your mother; I am giving it to you so that I can be sure no trace of freakishness remains in my house or in my life. I do not care where you go or what you do as long as you do not return here.’_

The letter had no signature, but Harry didn’t need one; this was from Aunt Petunia, and it definitely was not a joke from the twins-they would never be so cruel to him. Harry was surprised to find his eyes burning from unshed tears; why was he crying? He’d realized at age five that his relatives didn’t love him, and by age ten he had decided he didn’t want their love. If that was true, then why did it hurt so much?

Harry closed his eyes as the tears soiled over, streamed down his face, and he clenched the letter tight in his fist; it just wasn’t fair! They were his family-they were supposed to want him! Why didn’t they want him? Just because he had magic? Well, he’d never asked for magic, and he’d have given it up in an instant if it would make his aunt and uncle show him just a fraction of the affection they showered on Dudley. Images of his friends, of Hermione and Ron, the twins and Ginny, the rest of the Weasley’s and Dobby flashed through his mind, but they were followed by memories of Quirrell trying to kill him, a giant basilisk, a hundred Dementors surrounding himself and Sirius, Peter standing victoriously over poor Cedric’s body, and Sirius falling through the veil, and, for that one moment, he felt that the scattered moments of happiness were not worth all the pain and suffering he had witnessed; pain and suffering he would not have had to endure if he were a normal child.

Harry continued to wallow in self-pity for a few more minutes, then shook his head to clear it of the depressing thoughts. He needed to remember the good-he would never have to return to the Dursley’s again; no more being ridiculed and insulted, no more living with so-called family that resented his very existence. Harry knew he had only a few minutes to calm himself before his roommates returned; the Hogwarts Express would be taking them back to London the day after tomorrow, and he didn’t want to spoil Christmas by letting his friends know about the letter-there would be plenty of time for them to find out about it after the holidays.

Harry started to put the letter back in envelope, then he remembered that Petunia’s letter had mentioned an item belonging to his mom. Curious, he tipped the envelope upside down and watched as something silver flashed in the lamplight; the small object landed on his lap, and Harry picked it up to examine it more closely. He saw that it was a heart-shaped locket with lilies engraved on the outside, and when he opened it he saw his parent’s pictures smiling at him from opposite sides of the locket just before he felt a hook behind his navel as the portkey was activated. Harry’s breath was taken from him as he felt the ground fall away beneath him, and then he was dropped unceremoniously onto a thickly carpeted floor; as he landed he heard a thump, as if something heavy had travelled with him, followed by the clatter and rustle of several other objects falling on the floor.

“Wonderful,” the drawling voice had Harry jumping to his feet, wand in hand as silently thanked Merlin that he had gotten his eyes fixed over the summer-he didn’t want to be dealing with broken glasses in the middle of an abduction; “As if being locked up wasn’t bad enough-now I have to endure _your_ company?”

“Malfoy?” Harry kept his wand trained on the Slytherin, even though the other boy had no weapon of his own, “What the hell is going on?”

“Fuck if I know,” Malfoy replied, “I returned to my dorm after supper, intending to read for a while. When I picked up my book, I discovered it was a portkey, which dropped me into this room.” Malfoy looked around for a moment, then added, “I believe it is one of the Malfoy summer homes, but I am not certain, as I have been unable to leave. There is this bedroom, a bathroom and a study, but all the exterior doors and windows are locked. I tried summoning my House Elf, but he did not respond, nor did any of the other family Elves. What I want to know is how you got here.”

“I received a letter from my aunt, and there was a portkey inside,” Harry replied, placing both the locket and the letter in his pocket before Malfoy could try to take them; after a moment’s hesitation, he pocketed his wand as well; Malfoy wasn’t truly a threat to him anymore, not since they had called a reluctant truce at the beginning of the school year. In fact, in other circumstances, Harry might even consider the blond a friend-or at least a friendly rival. Harry was one of the few people who knew that Lucius Malfoy had become a spy for the Light in return for Dumbledore’s promise to protect his wife and son.  “You said this is one of your family properties?” Malfoy nodded with an arched eyebrow; “What are the chances of your parents finding you here?”

“I rather think they already know where I am,” Malfoy said, “The only reason the House Elves would refuse to answer my summons would be if my parents told them not to; wards cannot keep House Elves away from their master. I have no idea why I am here-and even less of an idea why you would be here with me.” Malfoy looked around the room and scowled at the sight of Harry’s trunk, open and spilling over, and some of his belongings on the floor. “Since you are here, however, and we have no way of escaping, you could get your things off the floor.”

“Just because you couldn’t escape doesn’t mean I can’t,” Harry retorted, then called; “Dobby!” After a few seconds, Dobby appeared wearing a tower of hats, one of Ron’s old Christmas sweaters with a pair of shorts that reached his ankles, and a pair of mix-matched socks.

“How can Dobby be helping Harry Potter?” the House Elf squeaked.

“You can get me out of here,” Harry replied and then added, after a moment’s thought, “And Malfoy too, if he wants to come.”

“Dobby is sorry!” the House Elf wailed, tears filling his tennis ball-sized eyes, “Dobby is not being able to help his Harry friend!” Harry glared at Malfoy when the blond snorted at Dobby’s word choice, but then had to turn his attention back to the House Elf, who was running towards the wall, head down;

“Dobby! Don’t!” Harry cried; he was too late, but the tower of hats protected Dobby from serious injury, so Harry hurried to speak; “Don’t punish yourself; it’s not your fault. Just-can you go back and tell everyone that I’m in one of the Malfoy propertie-” He saw Dobby trembling again, and knew that he was asking the House Elf for something else that he couldn’t do, “-er, can you just tell everyone that I’m safe for now?”

“Yes!” Dobby nodded his head, “Dobby is telling Harry Potter’s friends that Harry Potter is being safe! And Dobby is cleaning up mess for Harry Potter.” Harry started to protest, but he hadn’t even gotten his mouth open and Dobby had already cleaned all his belongings off the floor, sending the majority of them into the trunk while the clothes flew into the closet on the far wall. Dobby bowed his head briefly and then vanished with a loud Crack!

“Well, that worked splendidly,” Malfoy drawled, “I suppose you wish to try the doors now?” Harry just shot him a ‘don’t be stupid’ look; of course he was going to check the doors. The Slytherin sighed and shook his head; “Very well, I’ll show you where they are. The French doors over there lead out onto a balcony; they aren’t locked, but the balcony is warded to prevent escape.” Harry went outside anyway, and found that Malfoy was right; when he tried to climb over the edge of the balcony-intending to climb down the nearby trellis-he was blocked by an invisible wall. After that he followed Malfoy to the large picture window-complete with window seat-which was in the bedroom, then to each of the other doors and windows; the only things he could open were the closet door, the bathroom door, and the doors separating the rooms in the suite.

Finally resigned to the fact that there was no escape-for now-he followed Malfoy back to the bedroom and spent a moment taking in his surroundings. The entire suite was done in shades of green and blue; the walls were covered by a forest mural, and the thick carpet was a deep emerald green. The furniture-two large bookcases, two free-standing wardrobes, two nightstands and the large four poster bed-were all made of a beautiful cherry wood which-though it looked to be antique-still shone like new. The bed hangings, the curtains and the upholstery on the window seat were a brilliant turquoise blue, while the comforter and sheets were done in emerald green silk.

The bathroom was done in the same colors, but in here the tub-which was half the size of the one in the Prefects bathroom-and the sink were dark grey, while the fixtures were silver. There was a wall made of grey stone that appeared to be randomly placed in the room, but Malfoy informed him it was a shower; Harry couldn’t help but look behind the wall, and he found that Malfoy was telling the truth. He went through the opening and then around two corners before coming to a large open shower that had showerheads on all four sides, a bench at one end and would have fit nearly an entire Quidditch team, but Harry didn’t stay to examine it further because Malfoy’s presence in the shower unnerved him, even though they were both clothed.

The final room was the sitting room, which reflected the same colors as the rest of the suite. There were two walls of bookcases, a stone fireplace, a couch, a loveseat, and two plush armchairs. Harry had, of course, tried the fireplace straightaway, but the Floo connection was closed.

“So, any other bright ideas?” Malfoy demanded, and Harry scowled at him.

“Yeah,” he replied, “You can stop being such an ass since we’re stuck together for Merlin knows how long.”

“But that’s no fun,” Malfoy mock-pouted, “Besides-you look so cute when you’re glaring at me.” Harry’s glare intensified, even as he felt his cheeks flush from Malfoy’s comment. “That blush is even more adorable than the glare; if you’re not careful I may just have to snog you.”

“In your dreams, Malfoy,” Harry spat, turning his back on the blond; he needed to get his reactions under control; this was his worst nightmare! Ever since Malfoy had agreed to a truce between the two of them, Harry had found himself thinking about the blond in a less-than-platonic way. He had always pushed the thoughts aside before, having other things to occupy himself with at school, but if he was going to be locked in a room with Malfoy…Harry didn’t know how he would be able to keep his feelings a secret.

“Yes,” Malfoy replied, “Nearly every night, in fact.” Harry frowned in confusion and started to face the blond when Malfoy’s meaning hit him; Malfoy was saying he dreamed of snogging Harry every night!

“What?” he demanded, eyes wide as he spun around to face Malfoy, “You-you dream-”

“Oh yes,” Malfoy smirked, “I frequently dream of snogging you senseless, but that’s not all; would you like to hear what else I dream about doing to you?” Harry took a step back, not sure how to respond. At that moment, soft chime rang out and two letters appeared hovering in the air before them, saving Harry from having to answer; and why should he need to be saved from answering? Harry demanded himself as he reached for the letter addressed to him; of course the answer was no! He didn’t want to hear about any of the Slytherin’s perverted dreams; besides, he bit his lip, Malfoy was probably just setting him up for a joke anyway-there was no way that the blond would want him!

Harry shook his head to free himself of those thoughts, and turned his back again as he opened his letter; it turned out to be from Professor McGonagall:

_‘Harry,_

_The ministry informed Albus when your aunt relinquished her custodial rights, and he immediately began looking for a safe place for you to reside until you come of age this summer; for the first time in far too many years, I am acting against what he wanted, and I have convinced the ministry to name me as your guardian until your seventeenth birthday._

_As you know, a war has begun, one which the ministry is not equipped to fight, and the time for games is over. With that in mind, I have spoken to some of my associates and we have discovered a way to stop this war before any more blood is shed; the Order of the Phoenix is not the only secret society in the wizarding world. There are many secret societies, and I belong to one of the oldest-the Order of Merlin and Morgana; of all the secret societies, this is the only one that accepts both light witches and wizards as well as those who practice Dark Magic. The Malfoy’s have long been members of The Order, and it was Lucius and Narcissa who helped me develop my plan._

_Long ago, the wizarding world was being torn apart by internal strife, much like what is about to happen to us. Merlin and Morgana, though they had been bitter rivals for years, agreed that they could not watch their world be destroyed, and so they sought a way to unite the Dark and Light. Together, they came up with a ritual which would unite the two sides against a common enemy, and the ritual was successful; our world thrived for generations after._

_Since the time of Merlin and Morgana, we have been through several more wars, and twice more the ritual was used; it would have been used a third time, but Albus refused to participate and so had to defeat Grindlewald on his own. Now, it is time for the ritual to be used again, so that we may save our world from Voldemort and his madness._

_You may be wondering what this has to do with you-then again, you were always far cleverer than you let on. In order for the ritual to work, a representative had to be chosen for both the Light and the Dark. No matter what he would have you believe and what he himself believes, Albus is not the symbol of Light-you are. The Order of Merlin and Morgana has chosen you to represent the Light, and Draco Malfoy to represent the Dark. What this means, is that the two of you must bond according to the ritual created by Merlin and Morgana all those years ago. This will not be a bond of friendship, but a bond in the truest sense of the word; the vows you take will be both alike and stronger than marriage vows and, once it has been completed, you and Draco will be bound for life, as separation or divorce is not possible with this type of bond_

_It seems a lot to ask, I know, but the situation is dire. The Malfoy’s have assisted me with placing you and Draco in a warded room, and you will not be allowed to leave until you complete the bonding. Be aware, however, that if the ritual is not completed by the first day of the new year, you will have to wait until the week of the Spring Equinox before the timing is right to perform the ritual again. If you have not performed the ritual by the time school resumes, I will arrange for you to receive you lessons where you are. This ritual is the best way to save our world-and your friends-without a tremendous loss of life._

_You may hate me now, Harry, but I hope in time you will see that I have done what is best for our world, and it is also my belief that you can find happiness in this match._

_Best wishes,_

_Minerva McGonagall.’_

Harry stared incredulously at the letter for a moment and then looked over at Malfoy; the blond caught his look and glared, then stomped out of the bedroom and into the sitting room, where he slammed the door shut.

DM

Draco smirked as a flush heated up Potter’s face; despite his earlier annoyance, having Potter here could be a good thing, as he had begun to grow bored within fifteen minutes of being dropped into these rooms.

“What?” Harry cried, “You-you dream of me?”

“Oh yes,” Draco smirked, “I frequently dream of snogging you senseless, but that’s not all; would you like to hear what else I dream about doing to you?” Potter’s flush deepened, but he was prevented from answering Draco by the arrival of two letters; pity, but Draco could always describe his dreams later-in detail, of course. Draco took the letter in front of him and opened it to see his Mother’s writing.

_‘Hello Darling,_

_I hope you are not too put out with your father and myself; we are simply doing what is best for the family. By now Harry Potter will have joined you, and I am certain you wonder what our plans are. First, I should tell you that Harry’s Muggle relatives have given up their custodial rights, and Minerva McGonagall has been appointed his new guardian, with help from your father, of course; we are lucky that he still retains much of his political power despite the unpleasantness at the beginning of the summer._

_Minerva is an old friend; you are aware that your father and I are both members of the Order of Merlin and Morgana-Minerva is also a member. I know you have realized by now that our break from your father was for show, but our break from the Dark Lord is real. The Dark Lord is a madman-and a half-blood at that, yet he demands obedience and obeisance from those who are far superior to him. He will destroy us all if he is not stopped, which is why your father, Minerva and I have come up with a plan to unite our world against him; only the most insane of Dark Wizards-and Witches-will continue to follow him once the ritual is complete. The power of the ritual depends on the power of the individuals involved and, as you and Mr. Potter are both powerful, I expect that you will be able to accomplish amazing things with the completion of the ritual._

_I think by now you have an idea of what our plan is, still I shall tell you. We have placed you and Mr. Potter in seclusion so that you will bond, using The Ritual which was created by Merlin and Morgana. I would never have agreed to bind you to Mr. Potter, except that I have seen the look in your eyes when you speak of him, and I am assured that this will ultimately lead to your happiness. I know Mr. Potter will come to love you in time, and he will complete the ritual because he cannot stand idly by while innocents suffer, not if he has the chance to save them._

_All my love,_

_Mother.’_

Draco was fuming when he reached the end of the letter; how dare they? How dare they interfere in his life in such a way? Yes, he always knew he would have to submit to an arranged marriage and he had long-ago resigned himself to that fact, but he this-this was unacceptable! Draco felt eyes on him and looked up to see Potter watching him with wary emerald eyes; Draco responded with a scowl and stormed out of the room, slamming the door to the sitting room behind him as he tried to think about the situation rationally.

Okay, so this situation was less than ideal-Harry Potter had essentially been kidnapped and was now being forced into a marriage (no sense in pretending it was anything else) with him. Despite their truce, Potter still despised Draco for the way he treated the Mud-Muggleborn and the Weasel (Draco had never agreed to a truce with the other two-thirds of the Golden Trio having only limited respect for Granger and none for the Weasel), and he was bound to hate him twice as much now; there was no way Potter would believe Draco had nothing to do with this. Potter would eventually agree to the bonding, Draco’s mother was right about Potter’s need to save people, but bonding rituals were always stronger if there were genuine feelings between the participants; animosity would severely weaken the ritual.

Draco frowned as he re-read the letter; perhaps, since he was dealing with a Gryffindor, he should just be honest with him. Draco would share his letter with Potter-and share any future letters as well. If he was honest with Potter, then the other boy might come to view him as an ally instead of an enemy.

Draco had barely come to his decision when there was a knock on the door, and it slowly opened to reveal Potter standing there uncertainly.

“Um, I came to…er, to see if you’re okay,” Potter stammered, “You looked-well, you didn’t seem happy with the letter.”

“Oh, and I suppose you’re thrilled with yours?” Draco responded archly.

“Well, no,” Potter frowned, “I’m actually rather pissed at everyone for deciding my life for me, but I know it’s not your fault.” Draco’s eyes widened in surprise at that admission.

“I had thought you would jump at the chance to blame me for this,” Draco replied with false calm.

“No,” Potter sighed and shook his head, “McGonagall explained everything in her letter; it’s her and your parents who are behind this. Is that a letter from them?”

“From my mother,” Draco confirmed; he hesitated a moment, then extended the letter towards Potter; “You can read it, if you like.”

“That’s okay,” Potter replied, “but you can tell me if there’s anything in there that you think I should know.”

“Well, our feelings for one another will greatly affect the ritual,” Draco informed him, “If we hold animosity towards one another the ritual will be greatly weakened, whereas if we have positive feelings towards one another, it will strengthen both our bond and the power of the ritual. If we are able to feed enough power into the ritual, it may destroy the Dark Lord without any further actions on our part.”

“When we bond?” Potter questioned, “I haven’t agreed to this yet; I’m still hoping McGonagall will come to her senses and let me out of here. No offense, Malfoy, but I really don’t want to bond myself to you…or anyone else; I’m sure you don’t want this either.”

“I don’t want to be forced into a bonding,” Draco said, and Potter smiled at him before turning back to the bedroom; “However,” Draco continued, “That isn’t to say I object to a bonding with you-just the forced nature of it.” Potter looked over his shoulder, emerald eyes widened in surprise, then laughed weakly.

“Ha, ha; very funny Malfoy.” Hmm, so Potter didn’t believe him? No matter; Draco had time to make him see the truth. Unlike Potter, Draco knew his parents and McGonagall would not be letting them out of their shared rooms any time soon; if there was the slightest chance of ending this war by having Draco complete the ritual with Potter, their guardians would be content for the two sixth years to remain where they were.

“I wasn’t joking,” Draco replied, taking a step closer to the brunet, “I have no objections to bonding with you-although I would prefer to be out of school first-but I would not want it to be forced. For now, however, I would settle for expanding upon our truce, getting to know one another better. What do you say, Potter?” Draco calmed his heart and extended his hand in friendship, silently praying that it would be different this time around. Potter looked from his face to his outstretched hand, then back at his face.

“I say,” he began, “If we’re going to be friends you should call me Harry.” The brunet grinned and clasped his hand, drawing an answering smile from Draco.

“Very well, Harry,” Draco replied, “but only if you use my given name as well.”

“Draco,” Harry said with a slow smile, “I think I can do that.” He tried to pull his hand away, but Draco wasn’t quite ready to release it yet.

“You do it very well,” Draco decided to tease a bit, “So well, in fact, that I can’t wait to hear you say my name in a more…intimate setting.”

“Dream on, blondie,” Harry gave a nervous laugh as he finally pulled his hand free.

“Oh yes;” Draco smiled wickedly as he recalled their earlier conversation, “I do still need to tell you all about my dreams, don’t I?”

“No!” Harry protested, backing away from him, “I do not want to know what type of pervy dreams you have about me!”

“Spoil sport,” Draco pouted for a moment, then smiled again, “It’s okay Harry; I understand that you are repressed-I’ll tell you about my dreams some other time.”

“I’m not repr-fine,” Harry sighed, “I’m repressed and hearing about your dreams would scar me for life.” The brunet yawned and turned back to the bedroom again; this time Draco followed him.

“I think I’m about ready for bed,” Draco said, “The bed is big enough we should both be able to sleep on it and still have plenty of room.”

“Okay,” Harry agreed, walking over to the wardrobe Dobby had sent his clothes to earlier; he pulled out a pair of pajamas and said; “I’m going to change in the bathroom.”

“Why?” Draco asked, slipping off his own shirt, “It’s not like you’ve never changed in front of another guy before; we go to a boarding school for Merlin’s sake!”

“Yes, but none of them have pervy dreams about me,” Harry replied, “and if they do, they have enough common sense not to tell me about them.” He glanced at Draco and then back at the open bathroom door, then sighed and turned his back to take his shirt off. Draco smirked as he watched the other boy change; Harry probably didn’t realize that Draco could see him through the mirror in the open wardrobe-and Draco definitely liked what he saw.

Harry, though a few inches shorter than Draco, was very fit; his tanned torso was smooth and defined, with two dark buds that just begged for Draco’s attention, and he had no hair covering his upper body. Draco wondered if Harry used a potion; glancing at the brunets arms he decided that the boy had to use a potion, for he had no hair there either. It was widely believed that using a hair removal potion helped one to fly faster, and Draco used the potion for the same reason. He continued to watch as Harry took off his shoes and socks, followed by his trousers and-after a quick glance over his shoulder at Draco, who pretended to be focused on folding his shirt-then dropped his underpants. Draco felt his jaw drop as he caught his first glance at Harry’s perfect ass and, in the mirror, his half-erect cock with a nest of dark curls at the base, before the brunet quickly pulled on a pair of boxers.

Draco quickly turned around so that Harry wouldn’t see the desire in his eyes and realize that he had been staring. As he undressed, he focused on his breathing and by the time he was done he was able to turn around and smile at Harry in a friendly fashion-he hoped; he rather thought, by the blush on Harry’s face, that the brunet saw the desire in his eyes, but he didn’t bring it up. The two boys said their good nights and climbed into bed, Draco on one side and Harry firmly on the other. Within moments Draco was asleep.

December 15

When Harry awoke the next morning, he was disoriented for a moment, not recognizing the green-and-blue room he was in. He found his glasses on the nightstand and then his memories of the previous evening came rushing back when he noticed the blond sitting in the window seat, staring outside. No, Harry realized after a moment, Malfoy-Draco-was staring at him, using the window as a mirror. Harry flushed as he remembered the way Draco had teased him the night before, but he knew the blond was just joking around; Draco was the most-lusted-after guy in school, and Harry just couldn’t see the blond actually wanting to be with him. Draco would bond to him if he had to, because of the ritual, but Harry was determined to save the blond from making that sacrifice. For now, though, he needed to make the blond stop staring at him.

“You realize that watching someone sleep might make people think you’re a creep,” Harry said, and Draco turned to smirk at him.

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Draco replied, “You will notice, however, that I decided to watch you from the window, rather than sit by the bed and stare at you.”

“And I’m thankful,” Harry told him, “Because that would have been really creepy. What time is it?”

“About eight,” Draco replied, “Breakfast is in the sitting room; I didn’t want to start without you because it could disrupt the stasis charms.”

“Then we should go ahead and eat now,” Harry decided, getting out of the bed and heading over to the wardrobe to pull on a t-shirt; he was comfortable sleeping in his boxers, but he didn’t want to eat breakfast with no other clothing on.

The two boys had a peaceful breakfast, and then took showers-separate showers, although Draco had teasingly offered to wash Harry’s back for him. After they showered, the boys settled in for a game of chess; after winning two games in a row, Draco declared that he had earned a forfeit, and Harry gamely agreed.

“Sure,” He shrugged, “What do you want me to do? Alphabetize your books? Shine your shoes? Arrange your wardrobe according to season and color?”

“All good ideas,” Draco smirked, “but no; I just want you to answer a question.” Harry nodded, so Draco continued, “Why did you refuse my friendship that first year?” Harry thought about it for a moment before answering.

“Well, do you remember our first meeting in Madame Malkin’s?” Draco nodded, so Harry continued, “The entire time we were in there, you were talking about how Muggleborns shouldn’t be allowed at Hogwarts, and my mother was a Muggleborn. Then you insulted Hagrid, who was the first adult to ever act as if they cared about me.” Harry bit his lip; he didn’t want Draco asking any questions about his childhood, so he pressed forward, “And on top of that, you were just…bragging and acting very stuck up. The final straw was when we officially met on the train, and you insulted Ron, who was the first friend I ever had.”

“I never meant to come off sounding stuck up,” Draco frowned, “I was just acting the way my father taught me to; as for Weasley…I’ll admit I did insult him, but he insulted me first.”

“I don’t remember him insulting you,” it was Harry’s turn to frown now.

“He laughed at my name,” Draco said, then explained, “In the magical world it is considered a grave insult to laugh at someone’s name, because that means that you are mocking, not only the bearer of the name, but the parents, and sometimes even the entire family. Ron was raised in our world, even if his family was not part of the same social circles as mine, and so he knew that laughing at my name would be taken as an insult; there have been blood feuds caused by the mocking of someone’s name.”

“I never knew that,” Harry said honestly, then sighed, “See? This is just one of the reasons why it would be stupid for me to be bonded to you; there’s no way I’d ever be able to learn all of the customs that are important to you and your family.”

“We will be here for a while, so there’s plenty of time,” Draco pointed out, “I’ll teach you what I can while we are here.” He paused for a moment, frowning in thought before smirking at Harry; “Perhaps first we should work on your dancing skills; you were quite the embarrassment at the Yule Ball in Fourth Year.”

“Don’t remind me,” Harry groaned, putting his face in his hands as he remembered that disastrous night; “I swore I would never ask another girl to any kind of social event, even if refusing to do so meant my death.”

“A wise decision,” Draco replied solemnly, earning himself a glare from the brunet; “Now come; stand up and help me move the furniture against the walls.” Draco abandoned the table he and Harry had been sitting at while they played chess, and Harry reluctantly stood as well.

“You seriously want to give me dancing lessons?” Harry asked dubiously, “Why?” He drew his wand and helped Draco clear a space in the middle of the sitting room.

“Because,” Draco replied, “Even if we do not bond, it would still benefit you to know how to dance; whomever you eventually marry will certainly expect you to dance at least once, on your wedding day. Okay, that’s enough room; we’ll start without music. Come here.” Draco stood in the middle of the space they had cleared, and Harry joined him; Draco placed one of Harry’s arms around his neck and held the other hand within his own, while Draco’s free hand rested on Harry’s hip.

“Okay, just follow my lead,” Draco said, “I’ll guide you, all you have to do is keep your eyes on my face and trust me.” Harry felt ridiculous being in such a position with his former rival, but at the same time he found that he enjoyed the closeness.

“Why am I dancing the girls part?” He demanded; the wicked smile Draco flashed him made him regret the question immediately.

“Mostly because I had dream of you in an emerald green ballgown and-”

“Never mind!” Harry interrupted hastily, feeling his face flush, “Let’s just…get on with it, yeah?”

“Of course,” Draco said, “We will be starting with a waltz; I will count out the steps. On one, you move _this_ way,” Harry found himself stepping backwards as Draco applied gentle pressure on his hip; Draco continued to guide him in a slow waltz around the room, explaining the steps as he counted, until they were back in the same spot they began.

“This time I will count, but I will not give verbal instructions,” Draco told him, “Ready?” He didn’t wait for an answer, but began counting as he guided Harry around the room once more; “One, two, three…One, two, three…no, not that way Harry.” Harry flushed as he stepped on Draco’s foot; he lowered his eyes so that he could see what he was doing, only for Draco to reprimand him again. “No, don’t watch your feet; look at me.” Harry lifted his head only for his gaze to be captured by smoldering blue-grey eyes. He missed a step again, but Draco didn’t say anything about it; the blond just continued to lead him around the room in a waltz that seemed as if it existed outside of time.

December 16

Draco was the first to wake again the next morning, and he spent several minutes looking at the peacefully sleeping brunet beside him; Harry had fallen asleep almost before his head hit the pillow last night, tired as he was from the dancing lessons. To Draco’s surprise, Harry had caught on rather quickly once he managed to relax; they had even managed to move onto dancing with music, and Harry had very little trouble following Draco’s lead. The waltz had seemed to go on forever, yet it still wasn’t long enough for Draco; when he had finally called a stop to the lessons, Harry’s face was flushed with exertion and excitement, and Draco hadn’t been able to stop himself from leaning forward to capture those red lips in a kiss. Harry had been startled by the action, but he didn’t fight it and he didn’t say anything when Draco broke the kiss; the Gryffindor had simply given him a small smile and announced his intention to take a shower, then fled the room.

Draco smiled at the memory, and then sighed as he got out of the bed; wouldn’t do to be caught staring at Harry again. Draco changed out of his pajamas, and started for the sitting room when he noticed a piece of paper on the floor; he picked it up and frowned when he realized it was Muggle paper-it was probably Harry’s. Casting a furtive look at the brunet still soundly sleeping, Draco carefully unfolded the paper and read the short note.

“What’s that?” Draco jerked his head up when he heard Harry’s voice, and he had to fight to keep his expression neutral.

“I found this on the floor and-”

“You read my note,” Harry interrupted, having evidently recognized the folded slip of paper; he snatched it from Draco and held it in a clenched fist; “Why would you do that?”

“I just wanted to see what it was,” Draco replied, “I didn’t mean to-”

“To what?” Harry interrupted again, green eyes flashing angrily, “To invade my privacy? To stick your pointy nose in where it doesn’t belong?” Draco fought back the instinct to respond to the insult in kind.

“No, I did not mean to invade your privacy,” he said with forced calm, “As I said, I did not know what it was when I picked it up.”

“You should have put it down as soon as you realized it wasn’t yours,” Harry glared, “I guess you just couldn’t resist getting ammunition against me; go on then-make fun of poor orphaned Harry, who’s only living relatives want nothing to do with him. Then, you can tell me how you really feel about me, and maybe you can get your parents to call off this stupid ritual so you won’t have to sully yourself with me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Draco frowned, “I have no intention-”

“Don’t call me ridiculous!” Harry’s shout startled Draco into silence; “At least I’m not a lying, manipulative Slytherin bastard like you!”

“I have not lied to you once!” Draco protested, giving into his own anger, “Just because you are too much of an idiot Gryffindor-”

“Oh, so now I’m an idiot?” Harry cried, “Fine; go to hell, Malfoy!” Harry stormed past Draco and entered the sitting room.

“Stupid Potter,” Draco glowered as the connecting door slammed closed; “Who needs him anyway? I’d have to be mental to want to be with such an…Maybe if I write to Mother she’ll see how foolish this whole plan was.” Mind made up, Draco entered the sitting room and-ignoring Harry, who was sitting on the couch with his arms crossed-sat down at the desk in the corner, pulling out a sheet of parchment, a quill and some ink. He wrote:

_Mother,_

_I am sorry to disappoint you, however I feel this bonding is not going to work. Potter and I have only been locked up together for one day, and already we are fighting over the most ridiculous things. The ritual requires both representatives to bond willingly, and I fear Potter will never consent to do so; his anger and distrust of me are far too strong. Not that I blame him; looking back I can see how much of a bully I was. As long as we are in this room, Potter will hate me and-_

“Draco?” The hesitant voice interrupted Draco’s thoughts, and he carefully set the quill down before turning to face Harry.

“I-I’m sorry for overreacting,” Harry said quietly, looking fixedly at a spot on the wall, “I never did like for people to pry into my home life, but I never should have taken it out on you.” Draco was silent for a moment, then he sighed.

“It was my fault as well,” he admitted, “I knew that letter had to belong to you, but I still gave into my curiosity and read it. I am sorry for invading your privacy, and I will not do so again.” Harry smiled then, emerald eyes finally looking at Draco.

“I forgive you, if you forgive me for my temper.”

“Deal,” Draco replied, putting a lid on the inkwell and placing the unfinished letter in the top drawer of the desk, “Breakfast?”

“Breakfast,” Harry agreed, and their first fight as friends was over as quickly as it had begun.

December 17

The next morning, after breakfast, Draco insisted that they work on Harry’s dancing again, as it would take more than one lesson for him to become proficient at it. They practiced waltzing until lunch, and then settled in to relax that afternoon. The two sat in companionable silence for a few hours, before Draco decided to break it.

“Will you tell me about the Muggles?” Harry looked up from the book he had been reading, and found that Draco was watching him with a steady gaze, “I’d like to know what your life was like.” Harry examined those grey eyes for any sign of mockery, but found none. Still he hesitated; he didn’t like talking about his relatives to anyone, but Draco was his friend now…

“If you’ll tell me about your childhood,” he offered the compromise, and Draco nodded his agreement, then sat back in his chair and looked at Harry expectantly. “I suppose you want me to go first?”

“I did ask first,” Draco replied; Harry nodded, then frowned as he wondered where to begin, and what to tell him.

“Well, after my parents were killed, my aunt Petunia and her husband Vernon took me in,” Harry began, making himself comfortable on the loveseat, “I’m not really sure why they did it though, because they’ve always resented me being there. The Dursley’s don’t like magic or anything abnormal; I didn’t even know I was a wizard until my eleventh birthday…”

Harry went on to tell Draco about his life growing up with the Dursley’s. He told Draco about the verbal abuse, the chores and neglect, and being bullied by Dudley and his friends. He told about the punishments he received for each bout of accidental magic he performed, even though he wasn’t even aware of doing it. With hesitation, he described his bedroom, the cupboard under the stairs, and then he described everything that happened the summer before First Year, from setting the boa free at the zoo, to Hagrid taking him to Diagon Alley. He confessed about the summer before Second Year, and being locked in his room, and how he had to put up with being insulted by Vernon’s sister the year Sirius escaped Azkaban. He told about his nightmares after Cedric died, and the Dementors, and how the verbal abuse increased once his relatives discovered Sirius had died.

Sometime during his story, Harry had looked away from Draco, and instead gazed at the book still in his hand. When the words ran out, a pale hand came into his line of sight and rested on his arm, prompting Harry to look up-only to see Draco’s grey eyes burning with fury.

“You deserved better than that,” Draco said softly, vehemently; “For those Muggles to treat you in such a way-it’s barbaric. Not only that, but it was abuse.”

“What?” Harry startled, shaking his head, “No, it wasn’t abuse-”

“It was,” Draco cut across, “It was child abuse, child neglect, and quite possibly child endangerment. How would you feel if Granger received the same treatment from her relatives?”

“They would never do that!” Harry protested, “She’s their daughter!”

“Yes, but _if_ it happened? Or, what if Neville’s grandmother treated him the way you were raised? She very well could have done so, in the grief of losing her son.”

“I-It doesn’t matter anymore,” Harry said, “I’m never going back there again, so…it’s-it’s not important. It’s over and done with. Isn’t it time to eat?” Draco’s eyes flashed with some emotion Harry was unable to identify, but the blond evidently decided against saying anything, choosing to return to his own chair instead.

“The food hasn’t been sent up yet,” Draco replied, drawing his wand to cast a Tempus, “We still have an hour before supper. My early years were not quite as eventful as yours, so that should give me enough time to tell you about my childhood.”

Harry listened with rapt attention as Draco told him about growing up in a Pureblood house, being watched by House Elves when his parents were busy with ministry events, and discovering hidden rooms throughout the manor which were only accessible by someone with Malfoy blood. Draco had received a toy broom at a young age, and his first real broom, a Cleansweep, at age seven. Lucius took Draco to Quidditch matches every summer, and Narcissa tutored him in reading, writing, arithmetic and history until he was nine, when Lucius hired professional tutors. Professor Snape was Draco’s godfather, and saw to his potions lessons himself, in addition to expanding on his defense lessons. Every summer Draco’s family would take a vacation-they had homes in France, Italy, Germany and Greece, and Draco had learned the basics of the language in each country; he was fluent in French and German, and he had a firm understanding of Latin, even if he couldn’t speak it very well. Harry discovered that Draco received a practice wand at age five, which is when most Pureblood children received a practice wand. Draco had also never needed to worry about the trace, since he lived in a Pureblood household. He had grown up with Pansy Parkinson, Theodore Nott, Crabbe and Goyle as his childhood companions, only meeting Zabini the Christmas before their first year at Hogwarts. He also frequently saw the Patil twins, Terry Boot and Zacharias Smith, but he wasn’t as close to them.

Draco said punishments usually consisted of withholding dessert, grounding him from his broom, forbidding him from seeing his friends, or being assigned extra lessons. He learned politics at his father’s knee, and strategy from playing chess with his mother. He was given nearly everything he wanted, providing he kept up with his tutoring and did not act out. It was, Harry thought, the kind of childhood he wouldn’t have minded having.

“It is the type of childhood you should have had,” Draco pointed out, when Harry mentioned it, “If not for you being placed with the Muggles, it is the childhood you would have had. I cannot believe that there was not a single magical family Dumbledore could trust to keep you safe. I can understand wanting to protect a child from reporters and the like, but your childhood did not protect you, it left you not knowing how to deal with all the attention. I know he trusts McGonagall, and I am certain she would have taken you in. The headmaster has some sort of scheme in mind, and that is why he left you with the Muggles.”

“He’s up to something,” Harry agreed, “He promised me private lessons to help me defeat Voldemort, but all he’s done it tell me about Voldemort’s past. I understand the whole “Know your enemy” thing, but he only gives me a little bit of information at a time, and it feels like he doesn’t really want me to know the whole truth.” Draco looked as if he was about to comment, but then their supper appeared, and Harry decided he would rather eat than continue their conversation. “Oh good; I’m hungry.” Harry quickly moved over to the table, and Draco let the matter drop.

After supper, the two boys returned to their reading; Draco was going through the books to find more information on the ritual, while Harry, who was determined to avoid thinking about said ritual, was reading a book of wizarding children’s stories that he found in the sitting room.

“I think I’ll go to bed now,” Draco said a few hours later, putting his book aside as he stood up. He crossed the few steps to where Harry was sitting, and placed a hand on his shoulder. “The Muggles-they wanted you to feel worthless,” Draco said quietly, his grey eyes solemn, “You are a lot of things, but worthless is not one of them.” He held Harry’s gaze for another moment, before giving a small nod and turning to the bedroom.

It took Harry a few minutes to process what Draco said, and then he felt himself smiling. It was weird how comfortable he was with Draco after only a couple of days, especially considering their history. Without other people around, it was surprisingly easy to forget their past arguments, and it made Harry wonder if McGonagall had seen this potential before, if that was why she had agreed to have him participate in the ritual…Harry shook his head. He had only been locked in here with Malfoy for three days, and already his determination to avoid the ritual was wavering. He forcibly reminded himself that Draco was just being nice because he didn’t have another choice; the blond would probably agree to the ritual to please his mother, but he couldn’t actually _want_ to bond to Harry. If Draco actually liked him, Harry would have known about it before now; no, Draco was being forced into this, and it was Harry’s responsibility to save him this forced bonding.

Harry nodded once, then set his book aside to follow Draco to the bedroom. Tomorrow he would begin looking for another solution to the war, and a way to save Draco from being forced to bond against his will. Harry quickly changed into a t-shirt and boxers, then stood next to the bed and studied Draco’s face. The blond looked…not exactly innocent, but…happy, and peaceful, Harry decided. The moonlight gave Draco an otherworldly glow, and-

“Harry?” Draco’s sleepy voice drew him out of his thoughts, “What are you doing?” Harry flushed at being caught staring, and shook his head.

“Just thinking,” he replied softly, climbing into the bed and under the covers, “Good night, Draco.” Harry quickly turned on his side facing away from the blond, nearly missing Draco’s quiet response. Harry listened as Draco’s breathing evened out again, and then closed his eyes, hoping for a peaceful night’s sleep. Unfortunately, Harry’s mind refused to quiet, and he lay awake until the early hours of the morning thinking about his situation with Draco. He finally fell asleep just as the soft light of dawn became visible over the balcony.

December 18

Draco awoke to find two letters on the bedside table; one was addressed to him, and the other was addressed to Harry. Draco showered and dressed, and was surprised to find Harry still sleeping when he returned to the bedroom. Draco pocketed both his letter and Harry’s, intending to give the brunet his letter after his shower-otherwise Harry would want to read it first, and breakfast would be put off for even longer.

“Harry,” Draco called softly, shaking Harry’s shoulder. The brunet responded with a groan, and promptly rolled over, pulling a pillow to cover his head. “Stop being ridiculous,” Draco scowled, yanking the blanket down and making a grab for the pillow.

“Geroff!” Harry mumbled, fighting to keep hold of his pillow, even as his other hand was trying in vain to locate the covers Draco had taken.

“No, Potter,” Draco tugged harder on the pillow, “It is after nine, and there is no sense in lying in bed all day. I want breakfast, and you know I can’t eat unless you do as well.” They found that out yesterday, when Draco went into the sitting room before Harry woke up and found that there was a charm preventing him from getting the food; as soon as Harry entered the room, however, the charm broke.

“Bugger off!” Harry growled now, letting go of the pillow so that Draco fell on his ass. Harry sat up and reached for the blanket, only to freeze when he turned to glare at the blond and found him on the floor. “Serves you right!” Harry laughed, as he grabbed hold of the blanket and pulled it up to his chin, “Maybe next time you’ll let me sleep.”

“No, next time I’ll use a cold water spell,” Draco retorted, standing up and whacking Harry with the pillow. “If you’re not in the sitting room in five minutes, I’ll come back in here and use the cold water spell,” Draco threatened, as he heading for the door, “Oh, by the way, you received a letter, but you shan’t get it until you join me for breakfast.” He heard the sound of Harry reaching for his glasses, and chuckled as the brunet muttered under his breath, then Draco was in the sitting room and opening his own letter. The envelope turned out to contain two letters, one from his mother and the other from Pansy. He read the one from his mother first.

_“Darling Draco,_

_It is with a heavy heart that I must inform you of the death of one of your friends, Vincent Crabbe. The Dark Lord, it seems, was displeased with Vincent’s father, and punished him by assigning Vincent an impossible task. Vincent was ordered to find a way to kill the Headmaster. Minerva was able to speak to Gregory Goyle, whom Vincent confided in, and learned the details of what happened. Vincent, it seems, managed to acquire a cursed necklace which he intended to give to Professor Dumbledore. While he was wrapping the necklace, he touched it with his bare skin and died instantly._

_You can see now, my darling son, why we must bring this war to an end? The Dark Lord has no concern for the lives of children, not even his loyal followers. He would use every one of his follower’s children as a soldier, a pawn, in his war, from your Seventh Year Housemates down to Theodore’s five-year-old cousin. You and Harry are the one chance we have at stopping this war before the death toll rises to the heights we saw in the first war. My intention is not to pressure you, but you deserve to know both the fate of your friend, and the urgency of completing the ritual. It is my hope that I will be seeing you and your husband soon._

_Love,_

_Mother.”_

Draco set the letter aside and closed his eyes against the pain of losing one of his friends. Vincent may not have been the most intelligent of Draco’s friends, but they had known each other since they were children, and Vincent had always been loyal to him. The Dark Lord had to have known Vincent would never succeed at killing Dumbledore-he knew that Vincent would die completing his task. In fact, he probably counted on it-what better way to punish a parent than by killing their child, their sole heir? Draco shuddered as another thought came to him; Vincent’s fate could have been his. If Lucius hadn’t been able to place most of the blame on Bellatrix for that night in the Department of Mysteries, the Dark Lord might have assigned Draco that task, and Draco could be dead now. Not, he admitted, that he would be foolish enough to touch a cursed necklace with his bare hands, but going up against Dumbledore-whom the Dark Lord himself had never been able to defeat-was nothing short of a death sentence.

Draco pushed his thoughts aside, and turned to the letter from Pansy.

_“Draco Lucius Malfoy, where the hell are you?! We need you here, and you are nowhere to be found! Have you heard about Vincent? Poor Vince; he never had a chance at success. I am afraid the Dark Lord will assign the task to another-and continue to do so until someone succeeds due to sheer dumb luck! Father sent me a letter, summoning me home for Yule, and I heard that the Dark Lord is planning to Mark more students. What if he Marks me? I may believe in the Dark Lord’s goals, but I don’t want that ugly tattoo on my skin! There are also rumors that the Dark Lord is looking for a consort-and I am to spend the night before the Solstice with your aunt. Draco, how bad is this? I pray that I am just being paranoid, but…all of the Slytherins who are known to be your friends have received summons for the holidays AND YOU’RE NOT HERE! Sometimes, sometimes I hate you, Draco. Please stay safe, and contact me if you can._

_Always,_

_Pansy”_

Draco looked up from the letter in time to see Harry entering the room, still looking tired.

“Your letter is on the table,” Draco told him, standing and crossing to the desk, “You can start on breakfast if you like; I need to write a couple of letters first.”

“Okay, thanks,” Harry replied, sitting on the couch. Draco nodded then focused on writing his letters.

His response to Pansy was first, just a short note assuring her of his safety and apologizing for not being there when she needed him. Aside from Fourth Year, when Draco was still unsure about his sexuality, he had always viewed Pansy as a sister, and he would have never forgive himself if something happened to her. He also advised Pansy that she needed to make a decision on her future-if she was going to follow the Dark Lord she would have no choice but to follow through with his plans for her over the holidays. If, however, she didn’t want any part of it, he advised her to have her House Elf take her to Hogwarts, where she could ask the headmaster for sanctuary. That done, he began the letter to his mother.

_“Mother,_

_It saddens me to hear about Vincent’s death; he deserved better. I understand why you and Professor McGonagall decided that your best chance was to force Harry and myself to complete the ritual, but I cannot say I agree with your methods. I have always known I would have no choice in who I married, but I did think that the other party would be raised the same way; I never imagined you would put me in a situation where my spouse would hate me-or you. Truthfully, Harry has already said he does not blame me for this situation we are in, but he does blame you and Father, as well as Professor McGonagall. I do not know if he will ever forgive you for manipulating him like this, and taking away his chance to marry for love. We have begun to cultivate a friendship between us, but he has no romantic feelings towards me. If you had spoken to us first, there is every chance we would have agreed to the ritual. I, because I know my duty to my family, and Harry because he would willingly sacrifice himself to save others. Now, however, he will resist the ritual just because he was forced into this situation. If I find myself married to a man who resents me because of what you and Father have done, I will never forgive either of you, although I will always love you._

_On another note, Pansy has written to me that she may be in trouble. She believes that the Dark Lord intends to Mark her over the holidays, and she is fearful that she will be chosen to be his consort. Pansy said she has been told she will be spending the night before the Solstice with Bellatrix. I advised her to seek sanctuary at Hogwarts if she doesn’t wish to go through with the Dark Lord’s plans. If she does so, can you please make sure Professor McGonagall looks after her? And also, warn the professor that the Dark Lord may be looking for other Pureblood girls who would make suitable consorts._

_Love,_

_Draco”_

“Was your letter as bad as mine?” Draco turned to see Harry sitting on the couch, several sheets of paper surrounding him.

“I found out that Vincent Crabbe died on a suicide mission for the Dark Lord,” Draco replied, “And it is possible that the Dark Lord intends to mark Pansy over break-and make her his consort.”

“That’s just gross!” Harry paled, looking as if he might be sick, “I can’t imagine anyone being forced to-ugh!” He shuddered.

“I agree,” Draco nodded, “I suggested she seek sanctuary at Hogwarts, but only if she is truly abandoning the Dark Lord. What was in your letters?”

“Well, Hermione told me about Crabbe,” Harry said, “She said that she thinks Voldemort will assign the task to someone else after Christmas. The Patil twins, Lavender Brown and the Greengrass sisters have been withdrawn from school, but Hermione doesn’t know why yet. Hogsmeade visits have been cancelled, and so have all outdoor classes because Hagrid said there are werewolves in the Forbidden Forest now. Hermione said there are rumors about vampires in the forest too, but nothing has been confirmed. The school grounds are still safe, but Dumbledore is worried about students accidentally-or purposefully-going past the wards. Oh, and there is also a rumor going around that you kidnapped me for the Dark Lord; a rumor, that evidently Hermione and Ron believed until McGonagall told them that she placed me in a safe house for my own good. She didn’t tell them about The Ritual, as far as I can tell, but she did tell them that she is my new guardian and she is taking my safety more seriously than Dumbledore did.”

“Well, that’s not a hard thing to do,” Draco scoffed, “He only let you risk your left two or three times a year. Anything else of interest, that you want to share with me?”

“Er, McGonagall’s letter is urging me to do The Ritual with you, but it’s otherwise the same information Hermione gave me,” Harry replied, “Although she did say that we can leave a note on the table if we need anything, and the House Elves will bring it to her, or your mum. She said we can do the same thing with letters, but they will all be screened by both her and your mum before they are delivered. Ron wants to know where I am, as does Ginny, and Luna wishes us luck in our hunt for the, er-” Harry paused and picked up one of the letters, “Oh, right; she wishes us luck in our search for the Crumple horned sorkack, and wants to see the pictures when we get back.”

“I’m not even going to ask,” Draco said drily, “Well, I wrote Mother a letter telling her what Pansy said. I also told her that they should have spoken to us about the ritual, before just locking us in a room together. I may have used you to make her feel guilty.”

“Do I want to know?” Harry asked.

“Probably not,” Draco decided, after a moment of thought, “You don’t seem to be too upset with my parents at this moment, but if I bring up the topic I used to make her feel guilty, that may change. I will say, that I told her you probably would have agreed to the ritual if they hadn’t forced you into this situation.”

“That’s probably true,” Harry admitted, “Except, I don’t like that you’re being forced into it too. Which reminds me, I want to help you research the ritual; maybe I can find a way to get us out of having to do it.”

“I found several books that could be relevant,” Draco nodded his agreement, “Do you want to eat first?” Harry shook his head.

“I’m not really hungry at the moment,” he said, “I do want to write back to my friends first, though.” Draco nodded again, then sealed his letters before moving to the chair he had claimed for his own. He picked up the book he had been reading the previous night, and quickly got lost in the complexities of ancient rituals.

“This is confusing,” Harry’s annoyed grumble drew Draco’s attention back to the present, and he was surprised to find it much later in the day-the breakfast dishes had been cleared away, and lunch was now sitting on the table. A quick tempus showed that it was one pm, meaning he had been reading for three or four hours now. Draco shook his head and turned his attention to Harry, who was glaring at the book in his hands.

“What is confusing, Harry?”

“This!” Harry indicated the book, “The book is full of runes, and whole pages are in Latin-I can’t even read half of it!”

“Ah yes,” Draco said, “Some of the books are heavy on Latin, and runes are a requirement for most rituals. You can try a newer book, or I can find a book on rune translations and teach you the spell to translate Latin to English.”

“The translation,” Harry quickly said, “The more reliable information will probably be in the older books, right?”

“Correct,” Draco agreed, “I’ll help you with that later. For now, we should have lunch, and then relax a little.”

It wasn’t until later that night, after they ate supper, that Harry came across information on the bond that he thought could be useful. The information was in an old book that seemed to be held together with nothing but magic, and the text was written in Latin. According to the book, the ritual could only be successful if the individuals participating in it were able to put aside all of their past animosity. If there were too many negative feelings, the ritual would fail.

Harry stared blankly at the page as an idea formed in his mind-all he had to do, was start a fight with Draco; the blond would, eventually, write to his mother, and the Malfoy’s and McGonagall would have to see that this plan of theirs would never work. Harry snuck a glance at the blond, who was thoroughly engrossed in his own book, and felt a pang of sadness. In order for this to work, Harry would have to make Draco hate him again; he would lose this friendship they just started, and he would never have a chance to make it into anything more. Well, so be it; Draco deserved more than to be forced into a bond with someone he didn’t love.

“Done reading for the night?” Harry looked up to see Draco smiling at him.

“Yeah,” he replied, setting the book down and stretching, “I don’t think I could read another word tonight.”

“Same here,” Draco agreed, “Let’s do something else for a bit. Stand up; we’ll have another dancing lesson.”

“I don’t need any more dancing lessons,” Harry groaned, even as he stood up, “The only time I intend to dance in the future is at my wedding, and then only if I have no other choice. What you’ve taught me already is enough.”

“Very well, no more lessons,” Draco said, “If, that is, you show me that you remember everything I taught you. Come on, Potter.” Harry rolled his eyes, but helped Draco clear space in the middle of the room again, and then allowed the blond to lead him in a waltz.

“You’re doing very well,” Draco complimented him, once a few minutes had gone by without Harry making any mistakes, “I suppose this means that we will have to find something else to do, since you do not wish to have any more dancing lessons.” Draco brought them to a stop, but didn’t let Harry go.

“You can teach me some more chess,” Harry suggested lightly, “Or-”

“Or we could do this,” Draco interrupted, sliding his hand from Harry’s hip down to the small of his back. Harry looked up with wide eyes as Draco leaned forward, pressing their lips together. Harry took a step back, but Draco moved right along with him, releasing Harry’s hand and tangling his fingers in thick, dark locks instead. Harry placed his hands on Draco’s chest, intending to push him away, but then the blond gently bit his lip and Harry gasped. That open mouth was an invitation Draco had no intention of refusing, and he immediately slipped his tongue inside, eagerly sampling Harry’s flavor. The moment Draco’s tongue touched his, Harry forgot his un-voiced protests, and wrapped his arms around Draco’s neck to draw him closer. Draco’s hand on Harry’s back pulled the brunet closer, and he immediately regretted it as Harry jumped away when he felt Draco’s erection.

“What are we doing?” Harry demanded, emerald eyes still dark with lust, “What are you doing? You can’t-we’re supposed to be finding a way to get out of this!”

“Harry, the only way out is for us to complete the ritual,” Draco said calmly, “I told you before that I like you-bonding to you will not be a hardship for me. I-I care about you, and I believe that, in time, we could come to love one another. Do I wish we had a chance to date like other boys our age?” Draco paused, and Harry frowned at him in confusion, then the blond shook his head with a small smirk; “Actually, I don’t think I would like for us to date the way our year mates do; it would provide you with far too many opportunities to try and run from me. I wish you were not being forced into this, but I can honestly see myself being happy with you.”

“You’re crazy!” Harry said, once the blond had finished, “How could you-we’re only sixteen, for Merlin’s sake! How can you say you want to spend the rest of your life with me? You barely even know me, and we haven’t even been friends for a year! I mean…this is insane!”

“Harry, I have been drawn to you ever since we met in Madame Malkin’s,” Draco said seiriously, “I believe that we were always destined to end up together, and we might have been friends if the Dark Lord had not been resurrected. Can you honestly tell me that you don’t feel the same? That you could walk away right now, and never wonder what might have been?”

Harry looked away, unable to meet those stormy grey eyes for fear of what he might say. Yes, he could see himself being happy with Draco. No, he couldn’t imagine walking away from this, but he had to…right? Draco was only saying what he needed to say to get Harry to agree to the bonding; he couldn’t possibly mean it all. Harry needed to save him-

“I don’t need you to save me from this,” Draco said, and Harry looked back at him, wondering if the blond had just read his mind, “Stop looking at me like that; I wasn’t reading your mind, but I know how you think. You think this is self-sacrificing on my part, but tell me something, Harry-when have you ever known me to do something I didn’t want? When, in the past six years, have I given you reason to believe that I would ever sacrifice my happiness for someone else?”

“But you can’t want me,” Harry protested weakly, even as he let Draco take his hand and pull him closer.

“I can, and I do,” Draco countered, “The question, Harry, is do you want me? If you tell me you don’t want me, then I will do everything in my power to get us out of this ritual. If, however, you do want me, we can start planning how to make this ritual work for us. I won’t make you answer tonight, but think about it.” Draco kissed him again, just a chaste kiss on the lips, and then stepped back with a smirk before heading for the bedroom, leaving Harry staring after him with a mixture of shock and longing.

Harry slowly sat back down, his thoughts in a jumble. He wanted so badly to believe Draco, but what if the blond hadn’t meant it? Then again, what if he did mean it? Could Harry just walk away from what Draco was offering if there was the slightest chance that he was being truthful?

Harry sat in the sitting room until the moon was high in the sky, his mind running in circles as he wondered what he should do. Finally, when he could barely keep his eyes open, he made his way to the bedroom and changed, before crawling into bed beside Draco; tomorrow was soon enough to worry about what he should do.

December 19

Draco was surprised to wake up alone the next morning; he briefly worried that he had pushed too hard and made Harry feel too uncomfortable to even sleep in the same room as him, but then he saw that the sheets were rumpled on Harry’s side of the bed. It seemed Harry had simply gotten up before him for a change, which was very strange. Draco just found himself hoping that Harry was seriously thinking about what he had said-and that Harry believed him. If Harry thought Draco only wanted to bond as a way to defeat the Dark Lord, the brunet would never agree to it.

Draco contemplated ways to convince Harry as he showered and dressed for the day, and was still musing when he entered the sitting room.

“I’ve thought about it,” Draco looked up to see Harry sitting on the couch, nervously clutching a book, “After you went to bed, I couldn’t stop thinking about what you said. I wish-but I guess it doesn’t matter what I wish. Did you really mean everything you said?”

“Yes,” Draco said, choosing to sit next to Harry instead of in his usual chair, “I meant every word of it. I find you attractive, and I believe we could have a strong relationship. We tend to bring out the worst in each other in many situations, but I also believe that you can bring out the best in me. I meant what I said about giving you time though; you don’t have to make a decision today.”

“We’re so young,” Harry ignored the last sentence, obviously intent on discussing this now, “We’re not even out of Hogwarts-is it even legal for us to bond? I mean, I was reading about the ritual and we have to have-that is, we have to, er-consummate our bond for the ritual to work.”

“It is legal as long as we have our guardians consent,” Draco replied, “We are young, yes, but I already know how I feel about you, and I do not foresee it changing.”

“What if it does change?” Harry demanded, “We can’t just break up if we do this.”

“I doubt that will ever happen,” Draco said, “However, the ritual does not prevent us from taking other lovers-it merely prevents us from separating. If either of us becomes unhappy with our relationship, we can discuss the possibility of taking other lovers; as long as we are honest with each other, there will be no repercussions from the ritual. Again, I do not see that happening. Malfoy’s only fall in love once-my father knew he loved my mother when he was thirteen, and Grandfather Abraxus knew he loved Grandmother when they met in First Year. Potter’s also only fall in love once. If we do this, I believe we will be happy. Not that we won’t face challenges-we will likely hex each other once a week-but I think we can handle them together.” Harry bit his lip, looking at Draco thoughtfully for a moment before smiling shyly.

“Well, when you put it like that, how can I say no?” Harry bit his lip again, “I think-no, I _am_ willing to give this a chance. It would be nice if we could try dating first, but I know we have a time limit. So…what do we need to do?”

“Well, first we need to decide how we want to direct the power we will raise in the ritual,” Draco replied, “We need to agree on exactly how we should use that power to defeat the Dark Lord. Then, we need to choose a date and a location. The night of the Solstice would be ideal; it is two days away. As for a location…I believe outside, in a protected area would be best, because that would let us draw magic from nature as well.” He paused. “Harry-are you sure you want to do this? You didn’t take long to think about it, and I want to make sure this is what you want; I don’t want you completing the ritual with me just because it is a way for you to defeat the Dark Lord.”

“I-you have to know that I’ve watched you about as often as you’ve watched me,” Harry said, “I was drawn to you when we first met, but you intimidated me, then you insulted my first friend. I told myself that I hated you, but there was always something more there. Then, since I’ve gotten to know you over this past year, I realized that I care for you. I was…happy to be your friend, because I didn’t think you would ever want me as anything else. I guess what I’m trying to say, is that I want to do this. I’m nervous because forever is a long time, but…I’d rather spend it with you than without.”

“Good answer, Potter,” Draco smirked.

“I thought we agreed to call each other by our given names,” Harry pointed out.

“Of course, Harry; I simply forgot,” Draco said, then added with a sly smile, “I wouldn’t be able to call you Potter for much longer anyway, and it might be a bit confusing if we called each other ‘Malfoy’ all the time.”

“Who said I was going to change my name?” Harry demanded, “Why don’t you change your name?”

“Because ‘Draco Potter’ sounds ridiculous,” Draco replied, “Now, why don’t we eat breakfast, and I can finally tell you about that dream I had? Since we’re going to be bonded, I think it is only fair that I tell you about some of my fantasies, and then you can return the favor.”

“Er-let’s save the fantasy-sharing for after the bonding,” Harry suggested, his face turning red, “We should discuss the ritual instead.”

“Spoil sport,” Draco teased with a pout, “Very well; do you know what any of the Dark Lord’s weaknesses are?”

“Well, Dumbledore said that Voldie doesn’t understand love,” Harry replied, “He said my ability to love is ‘the power the dark lord knows not’. That’s from the prophecy that started this whole thing,” Harry said the last in response to Draco’s questioning look, and then he had to explain the prophecy to the blond. He told Draco everything he knew about what had happened during Voldemort’s first rise to power, and Draco shared what information his parents had given him about that time. By the time breakfast was over, they had decided to focus the ritual on strengthening and projecting Harry’s love for his friends, family and the Wizarding World as a whole at Voldemort; if the Dark Lord couldn’t stand to possess him in the ministry last year because of his love, then that was obviously the weapon to use against him.

“There’s something missing though,” Harry said a few hours later; the two were sitting side-by-side on the couch again, each sitting facing one another, with one leg on the couch, “Dumbledore has been calling me in for meetings all year, to teach me what I need to know to defeat Voldemort, but all we’ve done is look at memories from the past. I know he never had love growing up, but it seems like Dumbledore is leading up to something big; what if there is more to defeating him than just flooding him with emotions?”

“We should owl my parents and McGonagall,” Draco decided, “If they do not know what Dumbledore is up to, perhaps McGonagall can find out.” Harry agreed to the idea, and immediately began drafting a letter to his new guardian, while Draco wrote to his parents. Once the letters were completed, Harry called for Dobby, who immediately answered the summons. As a free elf, he felt no guilt over answering Harry whenever he called; the only reason he didn’t help the brunet escape when he asked was because McGonagall had explained the situation in a way that made Dobby believe Harry was safest where he was.

“One of them should get back to us soon,” Draco said, “What would you like to do in the meantime?”

“Well, we need more information before we can plan the ritual, right?” Draco nodded, “Okay, then why don’t we get to know each other better?”

“An excellent idea,” Draco agreed; before Harry could reply, Draco suddenly moved so that he was kneeling over Harry and then pressed their lips together, using one hand at the nape of Harry’s neck to prevent the brunet from moving.

 Harry froze for a moment at the unexpectedness of the move, then Draco licked at Harry’s lips, and the brunet moaned, opening his mouth in invitation. Draco wasted no time in thoroughly tasting the warm cavern, as Harry twined his arms around Draco’s neck. Draco watched as emerald eyes grew dark with passion before fluttering closed, and then he closed his eyes as well, giving himself up to the moment. Tongues battled for dominance, and one of Harry’s hands slid down from Draco’s neck to his shoulders, then moved down to wrap around Draco’s waist. Draco was careful not to press too far like he did the last time, and made sure to keep his erection away from Harry; he really didn’t want the brunet to try running away again. Draco slid his hand up into Harry’s thick locks and tugged gently, drawing another moan from the boy beneath him.

Then, Harry was pushing Draco away, although he had a smile on his face as he shook his head.

“This wasn’t what I meant by getting to know each other better,” Harry laughed breathlessly, “I thought we would talk.”

“Mmm, but this is so much more fun,” Draco replied with a wicked smirk, “Don’t you agree?” Harry mock-glared at the blond, but couldn’t hold the expression. He shook his head again, then started to pull Draco back down for another kiss. The moment their lips touched, the room exploded in chaos.

December 20

Harry sat on his bed in the Hogwarts infirmary, glaring at his hands. He didn’t want to be here, but no one would listen to him, and they weren’t answering his questions either. Harry had been deposited in the infirmary yesterday afternoon, and he hadn’t seen anyone except for Madame Pomfrey during that time. He thought back to the day before, replaying the events in his mind.

At the time, all Harry was aware of was an explosion of lights and noise, which caused him and Draco to break apart, each going for their wand. Harry had found himself unable to move as spells shot through the air, and then someone grabbed his arm and he felt the familiar sensation of travelling by Portkey. Dumbledore had apologized for letting Harry get kidnapped from the school, and promised he would see to it that the ones responsible were punished accordingly. When asked how Dumbledore had found them, Harry found out that he had intercepted Harry’s letter to Professor McGonagall, and used it to track Harry. He then ushered Harry from his office to the infirmary, nattering on about inane things so that Harry couldn’t get a word in edgewise. As soon as they reached the infirmary, Dumbledore had directed Madame Pomfrey to check Harry for spells and potions, and cautioned her not to take anything the boy said too seriously, as he was undoubtedly in shock. Then, before Harry could protest, the headmaster left.

Harry had been quick to turn his attention to Pomfrey, but she was no stranger to Harry’s moodiness and simply cast a sleeping spell so that she could perform her diagnostics in peace. Harry had awoken later that evening, and Pomfrey advised him that he appeared to be healthy, but that he would need to remain in the hospital wing until Dumbledore returned to speak to him. All of his questions were also brushed aside, the mediwitch telling him, once again, to wait for Dumbledore. Harry waited all night, but the headmaster never returned. It was now noon of the following day, and Madame Pomfrey was still the only person he had seen. Needless to say, Harry was starting to get aggravated, and was at the point of rebellion when Dumbledore finally appeared.

“Harry, my boy,” Dumbledore greeted him cheerfully, “How are you? Madame Pomfrey assures me you are healthy, but how do you feel?”

“Annoyed, sir,” Harry promptly replied, “I want to know what happened? Why did you bring me here, and where is Draco?”

“Well, Harry, what happened was the Order of the Phoenix rescued you,” Dumbledore replied, “I brought you here so that I could make sure that you were not injured or cursed; I wasn’t sure how you had been treated during your imprisonment. As for Mr. Malfoy, he has been returned to his father at Malfoy Manor. He was detained for questioning yesterday, but we were able to determine that young Mr. Malfoy was not responsible for your kidnapping, and so he was sent home.”

“Are you insane?” Harry demanded, “Voldemort is at Malfoy Manor! You know that Voldemort has it out for Draco because he refused the Mark! You promised to keep him safe!”

“I promised to keep him safe as long as his family did not betray us,” Dumbledore said mildly, “By kidnapping you, they have obviously betrayed us, and so they lost my protection. Harry, do you know what kinds of rituals can be done on the Solstice? I fear the you were taken from school to be a sacrifice for Voldemort.”

“Then you’re an idiot,” Harry snapped, and he was pleased to see Dumbledore’s eyes narrow slightly in anger, “Yes, I was brought there to do a ritual, but it was one I had to be willing to participate in; all the books just call it ‘The Ritual’, and it was created by Merlin and Morgana to unite the Wizarding World against a common enemy.”

“Harry, you can’t possibly know what sacrifices that ritual requires,” Dumbledore frowned, “You would be bound to the other participant-in this case I surmise it would be Mr. Malfoy-for life, never being able to choose a love of your own. Your power and his would be forever entwined, and you would be reliant on him for the rest of your life. If one of you were to die, the other would follow soon after.”

“I know all that,” Harry said impatiently, “And I still agreed to do the ritual. I like Draco, and I am willing to take a chance on bonding to him if it will defeat Voldemort.”

“If the ritual would work, I would consider allowing you to participate,” Dumbledore said sadly, “I am afraid, however, that even The Ritual is not strong enough to defeat Voldemort. If you will follow me to my office, I will show you why The Ritual is doomed to fail; I was able to get a memory from Horace while you were missing, and it has provided the last piece of the puzzle. Just let me tell Poppy we are leaving, and then we shall be on our way.”

An hour later, Harry was staring at Dumbledore in shock. Voldemort had split his soul into six pieces; no wonder he was insane! And, no wonder he couldn’t understand love; you had to have a soul for that. But still…

“I don’t see why The Ritual wouldn’t work,” Harry said, “I mean, it might not have worked before because Draco and I didn’t know about the Horcruxes, but now we could fix the ritual on destroying them so that Voldemort would die.”

“If you did that, young Mr. Malfoy would die as well,” Dumbledore said, “As I told you, the ritual binds your lives to one another, meaning that if you die, so would he. After reviewing that memory, as well as my own from the time you entered Hogwarts, I have come to the conclusion that Voldemort has split his soul into seven pieces, although the last one was unintentional. It is my belief, Harry, that Voldemort intended to create a Horcrux the night your parents died; the magic had already been woven, and when he tried to kill you it caused his soul to split again. One small piece of his soul was left behind when he fled, and it sought out the nearest living being. I am sorry to tell you this Harry, but you are a living Horcrux.” Harry froze, Dumbledore’s words playing over and over again in his mind, but he just couldn’t seem to understand them. He felt light-headed, and his body began to shake as tears spilled over onto his cheeks. A gentle touch on his shoulder made Harry jump, and he was startled to find Dumbledore kneeling in front of him, his own blue eyes shining with unshed tears; when had the headmaster moved?

“I am so sorry, my boy,” Dumbledore said, “I did not want to be the one to tell you this, but I know you would never have forgiven yourself if you bound Mr. Malfoy to you and he died.”

“You need to save him,” Harry said quietly, latching onto thoughts of Draco, “He’s in danger, Professor, and he’s my friend. You have to save him; I need to know that he’s okay.”

“Harry, it is not so simple,” Dumbledore stood, shaking his head sadly, “Lucius Malfoy arrived at the ministry to claim Draco; he is in his father’s custody, and I have no right to remove him, just as I was powerless to stop Lucius from taking him in the first place. You know that I would allow Draco to suffer if I could prevent it, no matter what choices his parents have made, Draco is still a child.”

“You said you withdrew your protection,” Harry accused.

“I did, however that was before I found out that Draco was innocent,” Dumbledore replied.

“You’re really good about that,” Harry sneered, “You always believe the worst in people; you could have pushed for Sirius to get a trial, but you didn’t. You always give up on people. Well, you had better not give up on Draco. He isn’t to blame for any of this, and if anything happens to him I will never forgive you. Save him, Headmaster.” Dumbledore sighed, and gave a brief nod.

“I will do what I can,” he promised, “but it will take time. Why don’t you return to your common room? I would like for you to remain at school for another day or two, and then I will escort you to Mr. Weasley’s house so that you can spend the remainder of the holidays with your friends.”

“Okay,” Harry agreed after a moment’s hesitation, “Just don’t break your promise, Professor.”

Harry left the headmaster’s office before Dumbledore could reply, and slowly made his way to Gryffindor Tower. The common room was empty, and so was the dorm; it seemed that everyone had gone home for Christmas. Harry looked around the dorm and noticed that his belongings hadn’t been returned; he shrugged and climbed into bed, pulling the hangings closed and burying himself under the covers. He briefly recalled what Dumbledore had said about being a Horcrux, but quickly pushed it away; he couldn’t deal with that at the moment-not until he knew Draco was safe.

After tossing and turning for several hours, Harry finally got out of bed and crossed over to Neville’s wardrobe; upon opening it, he was pleased to find two vials of Dreamless Sleep potion. Neville had as much trouble sleeping as Harry did, and so his grandmother had provided him with a mild form of Dreamless Sleep; this version was not addictive like the full-strength potion, and it was good for four hours of sleep instead of eight. Harry grabbed one of the vials, silently promising to pay Neville back, and poured a single dose into the attached cup. He made sure he was in bed before taking the potion, and was asleep in an instant.

When Harry awoke later that night, he found a letter on the pillow next to him. His heart skipped a beat when he saw that it was from Draco.

_“Harry,_

_I can’t write much because it isn’t safe, but I wanted to let you know that I am okay. I was questioned by the ministry to determine if I was responsible for kidnapping you and, once they determined my innocence, I was released into Father’s custody. The Dark Lord instructed Father to bring me to the manor and keep me here until he has time to see to me. Due to the control the Dark Lord has over those bearing his Mark, Father cannot disobey, and so we have decided that I will pretend to be angry at Mother for taking me with her. I will pretend to be the perfectly obedient follower the Dark Lord desires, and hope to get out of this with my life-and without the Dark Mark. I am working on an escape plan, but I have to make sure Father isn’t blamed for it. I am having Dobby deliver this letter, along with some of the books on the ritual. If you still want to go through with it, have Dobby bring you to meet me at sunset on the Solstice. If you won’t be able to get away at that time, send a message with Dobby-just make sure you instruct him to give it to me when I am alone and not to get caught. Stay safe._

_Draco.”_

Harry set the letter down; Draco was safe, but for how long? It was evident that Draco was counting on The Ritual to save him, even if he didn’t come right out and say it, and Harry hated that he had to take that hope away from the blond. With a frown, Harry got up and went to his desk, pulling out a fresh sheet of parchment.

_“Draco,_

_“I’m glad you’re okay for now, but I’m worried about what will happen when HE comes to your manor. I don’t want you to get hurt, and I can’t help but think this is all my fault somehow. As for The Ritual, we can’t do it anymore; Dumbledore told me it won’t work. Dumbledore found out that Voldemort created six Horcruxes, which is why he’s a crazy fucker. We can’t do The Ritual, because I am one of those Horcruxes; when I was a baby and he tried to kill me, his spell rebounded and split his soul, and part of it is attached to mine. I have to die in order for Voldemort to be defeated for good, and if we did The Ritual you would die too. I won’t be responsible for your death. I convinced Dumbledore to rescue you; if you can get your father out of the house, we can stage the rescue then so that he isn’t blamed. Please stay safe until then Draco, and forgive me for not being able to save you._

_Harry.”_

Harry called for Dobby, and instructed him to deliver the letter to Draco only when he was alone, and to make sure that no one saw him coming or going. He also asked Dobby to bring him some books on Horcruxes, which the House Elf only agreed to after Harry told him he needed the information to fight Dumbledore.

Once Dobby left, Harry felt remarkably better. He was still upset about being a Horcrux, but he found that he could push it aside with thoughts of Draco being safe and happy. Harry cast a Tempus, and saw that it was just after midnight; he was still tired despite the dreamless sleep he took that afternoon, and decided to go back to bed. He was worried about nightmares, and countered that by casting a Patronus; he had discovered, quite by accident, that he could cast his Patronus and it would guard him until he fell asleep. With the soft silvery light of his Patronus filling the space between his bedcurtains, Harry was soon able to fall into a light sleep.

December 21

Harry awoke to find another note on his pillow.

_“Harry,_

_Don’t be an idiot. We can use The Ritual without either of us dying. All we have to do, is focus the ritual on destroying the Dark Lord’s soul, and it will not harm yours. The soul shard cannot have been very strong, as it does not affect you. I have grown up around Dark Magic, and I would be able to tell if it was inside you; the soul shard has no control over you, which means whatever is keeping it attached to you is not very strong. I will not try to force you to complete The Ritual, but I will tell you that it is the best chance you have at surviving. Please consider this carefully; I wrote to Professor McGonagall before I sent this to you, and she agrees with me. Dumbledore doesn’t want you to do The Ritual with me because he has a fear of sharing himself so deeply with another person; he actually believes that death is a better alternative. I will be waiting for you in the woods behind Malfoy Manor at sunset; Dobby will be able to bring you to me. I hope to see you tonight._

_Draco”_

Harry sighed in frustration as he read the letter; what should he do? Draco said The Ritual would work, but Dumbledore said it wouldn’t. Normally Harry would go by whatever the headmaster said, but he couldn’t help remembering all of Dumbledore’s protests were against Harry tying himself to someone else; he had a feeling that Dumbledore only told him about the Horcrux because it was the only way to guarantee Harry would not complete The Ritual. He needed an objective third party, but who could he trust? Almost everyone he knew would tell him not to do the ritual, but all of those people cared about him more than they cared about Draco. In fact, the only person in the school that really seemed to care about Draco was-

“Fuck. I’m gonna have to talk to Snape,” Harry groaned, flopping back onto his bed. He didn’t want to talk to his most-hated professor, but he was the only person Harry thought would be completely objective about this. The only problem was getting Snape to answer him without telling the headmaster.

It was later that morning when Harry made his way down into the dungeons and knocked on Snape’s office door. It swung open silently, and Harry slowly made his way into the dark room.

“I was wondering if you would show up,” Snape sneered at him, “Well? Sit down Potter. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner I can get you out of my office.”

“Sorry sir,” Harry made an effort to be polite; he couldn’t afford to piss Snape off right now, “I wanted to-”

“Ask me about Mr. Malfoy,” Snape interrupted, “He is safe for now, and I am working on making sure he stays that way. There is nothing you can do to help, and you would in fact be nothing more than an inconvenience. If you truly wish for Draco to be returned safely, you need to stay out of my way. Have I sufficiently answered all of your questions?”

“No sir,” Harry shook his head, “I already know Draco is safe; he sent a House Elf to tell me. I wanted to ask you about something the headmaster told me; Draco thinks it can be used to defeat Vol-sorry-er, You-know-who for good, but Professor Dumbledore said it can’t. I just wanted an objective opinion, before I make a decision.”

“And you came to me, how flattering,” Snape scowled, but Harry noticed the spark of curiosity in his eyes, “Very well, what do you wish to know?”

“Er, first, sir, can you promise not to tell Professor Dumbledore about our conversation until after Christmas?” Harry asked hesitantly, “If you think the idea will work, I don’t want him to try and stop us.”

“I agree,” Snape said, “However, if I tell you that the idea is foolish, I will be placing a tracking charm on you to make certain you remain within the school grounds until I am able to tell the headmaster of our conversation. If you attempt to leave despite this, you will serve detention with me for the rest of the year.”

“I understand,” Harry said, “Okay, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy and Professor McGonagall wanted Draco and I to complete The Ritual to defeat You-know-who. We decided to do it, then the Order came and rescued me and left Draco behind.” Harry glared in remembrance, but continued speaking, “The headmaster told me the ritual wouldn’t work because HE created Horcruxes, and I’m one of them. Professor Dumbledore thinks I have to die for You-know-who to finally be defeated, and if we do The Ritual Draco will die too. Draco thinks we can control the ritual to just destroy You-Know-Who’s soul, and that way neither Draco nor I will be hurt. I don’t want Draco to die because of me.”

“I see,” Snape mused, drawing his wand, “If I may?” Harry nodded, and sat still as Snape cast several unfamiliar diagnostic spells at him. It was several moments before the Potions Master sat back. “You do indeed hold a piece of the Dark Lord’s soul within you,” Snape confirmed, “However the link is weak; if the link was strong then you would be giving off an aura of Dark Magic, but I cannot detect any Dark Magic in you. The Ritual you speak of is the one designed by Merlin and Morgana?” Harry nodded. “Then I believe it would be successful; as long as both you and Mr. Malfoy focus on your goals, you can defeat the Dark Lord without either of you losing your life. You do realize, however, that the two of you will be bound for the rest of your lives?”

“We discussed it already,” Harry said, “We both wish we were older, but we decided that we’re willing to do whatever it takes to make a relationship between us work.”

“Very well,” Snape sighed, “You should go now before the headmaster becomes suspicious. If he says anything to you, tell him that you were badgering me about rescuing Draco, and that you finally left because I threatened you with a months’ worth of detentions.”

“Yes sir,” Harry agreed, standing up. He paused just before he opened the door and added, “Thank you, Professor.” Then he left, closing the door behind him.

It was mid-morning now, and Harry had several hours before he needed to meet with Draco. Thankfully, he had a lot to keep him busy; his first objective was to get some clothes, since none of his belongings had been returned as of yet. Dumbledore was reluctant to allow Harry to got to Hogsmeade, but eventually agreed to let him go if Hagrid went with him. Hagrid was happy to agree, and they were instructed to be back on school grounds before supper.

Harry found a clothing store across from Honeydukes, and promptly bought a full wardrobe, with instructions for a set of dress robes to be ready that evening. He bought some quills and parchment at the nearby stationary store, and then stopped in Honeydukes for some candy. Harry and Hagrid had lunch at The Three Broomsticks before returning to the school, where Harry immediately headed up to his room.

Harry was pleasantly surprised to find a package on the bed which contained his new clothes. He set them aside, and then settled in to read more about The Ritual until time for supper. Harry made a brief appearance in the Great Hall, and excused himself early by claiming to be tired. Professors Snape and McGonagall watched him with narrowed eyes as he left the table, but Dumbledore just gave him a sad smile. The other students-two Hufflepuffs and three Ravenclaws-didn’t pay him any attention, and so he was able to slip away without any fuss.

Once back in his room, Harry hurried to take a shower before dressing in his new robes. The robes were similar to the ones he wore to the Yule Ball in Fourth Year, but the color was a rich emerald green, and the cut clung to his upper body, accentuating the muscles he had gained from playing Quidditch. A black half-cloak with silver lining and warming charms and a pair of black dragonhide boots completed the outfit. Harry made sure his wand was secure, and then summoned Dobby.

“I need you to take me to the place Draco wanted us to meet,” Harry told him, “But you can’t let anyone know we left the school, okay?”

“Dobby is waiting for Harry Potter to be ready,” Dobby replied excitedly, “Dobby is knowing where to go. He is making it safe. No one is finding Harry Potter and his dragon until they is ready.” Harry had to bite back a laugh when Dobby called Draco his dragon, not wanting to hurt the House Elf’s feelings.

“Thanks, Dobby,” he said instead, “I’m ready now.” Harry let Dobby take his arm, and moments later he found himself standing in the middle of a snow-covered forest clearing. It wasn’t quite sunset yet, so Harry was unsurprised to find that he was the first one to arrive.

“Can Dobby be doing anything else for Harry Potter?”

“Er-you said this place is protected?” Harry questioned, “No one can get in except Draco and me?”

“Dobby is making sure no one else is finding Harry Potter’s secret,” Dobby confirmed.

“Then that’s all,” Harry smiled, “Thanks again, Dobby. We’ll call you if we need you, okay?”

“Dobby is answering for Harry Potter,” Dobby nodded, then gave Harry a bow before apparating away. Once he was alone, Harry took his time looking around the clearing.

The clearing was a nearly perfect circle, with a clear view of the evening sky above. The trees were thick around the outer edges of the clearing, but the clearing itself was free from trees. The ground was blanketed with snow, and a small river was frozen over at one end of the clearing. A snow-covered bridge with a high arch crossed the river, and Harry found himself moving towards it for a closer look. The bridge was crafted of dark stone, and it had footholds to make it easier to climb.

“It’s called a moon bridge,” Harry looked up, and saw Draco standing at the top of the bridge, “They originated in China for practicality, but we have them in our gardens simply for aesthetic reasons. When the light is good, the bridges reflection in the water makes a circle, which is why it is called a moon bridge.”

“It’s pretty,” Harry said, “How did you get here? I didn’t hear you Apparate.”

“That’s because I didn’t Apparate,” Draco smirked, “These bridges might have one other purpose, aside from being aesthetically pleasing. Come here.” Harry quickly ascended the bridge until he was standing next to Draco, and the blonde pointed out a rune carved into the stone railing. “Bridges can be used as portals, if the correct spells and runes are used. I connected this bridge to one in the back gardens; Father knows that the bridge connects elsewhere on the property, so he will not come looking for me unless the Dark Lord requests my presence. Just to be safe, I also closed the portal from this end and activated wards so that we will not be disturbed.”

“Clever,” Harry admitted, “So…we’re safe, and nothing will be able to stop us from completing The Ritual?”

“That’s correct,” Draco confirmed, “This is your last chance to change your mind; once we begin, The Ritual cannot be abandoned.”

“I just want to make sure you’re okay with it,” Harry said, “If this doesn’t work the way we want it to-”

“It will,” Draco interrupted, “All we have to do is focus, and The Ritual will do exactly what we want it to. I have all the materials we need-” Draco pulled a box out of his robes “-so all we have to do is decide who is going to take which position once we set up.”

“Right,” Harry said shakily, “Okay, the books say that it works best if the partner with the most power is…er, the one…”

“The Keeper?” Draco offered with a smirk, “And the less powerful partner is the Chaser. Or,” his grin turned wicked, “Shall we call you the Snitch, and I’ll be the Seeker?”

“I don’t know,” Harry teased, “In my experience, you aren’t all that competent when it comes to catching the Snitch.” Draco scowled at him, crossing his arms and looking like a petulant two-year-old.

“Keep it up, and I’ll make you polish your own broomstick,” Draco threatened, and Harry laughed, even as he felt his cheeks redden; this conversation was a little ridiculous, he felt-here they were about to conduct a powerful ritual, and they were trading Quidditch innuendo’s.

“Okay, back on topic,” Harry said, “So, what do we need to do to prepare?”

Draco walked him through setting up the ritual; first they cleared the snow away from a large area in front of the bridge, and the Draco marked the edge of the ritual circle with crystals which would amplify their magic, while protecting them from outside influences. The crystals gave off a soft warmth, which was nice because they were about to get naked, and they wouldn’t be able to cast any warming spells. Once the circle was set up, Draco took out a golden chalice and two silver daggers, which he set in the snow just outside the circle.

“The Ritual itself is fairly simple,” Draco told him, “We will each be wearing an amulet charmed by either Merlin or Morgana; the amulet is to identify the dominant and submissive partner in The Ritual, and will be the only items we wear. Once we remove our clothes and don the amulets, we will spill our blood into the chalice while thinking about what we wish The Ritual to accomplish. Once the chalice begins to glow, the magic will transform our blood into a potion, which we will each drink half of. After we have drained the chalice, you will kneel in the center of the circle and speak your promises out loud. Do you know what promises you have to make?” Harry nodded, and Draco continued, “Okay, then I will kneel behind you and make my own promises, before accepting yours. After that we consummate the bond, and The Ritual will take control of our magic to do the rest.”

“What about…preparation?” Harry asked, “I’ve hear that it hurts the first time.”

“I have a potion for that,” Draco withdrew a silver vial from his pocket, “I will make sure you are well-prepared when the time comes.” He looked up at the sky, and saw that the edge of the moon was just visible in the clearing. “Speaking of time, are you ready to begin? We need to have the ritual completed before the moon reaches its zenith.”

“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” Harry let out a shaky breath, “So…we just strip?”

“Yes,” Draco confirmed, “We can’t touch one another until after The Ritual begins. We can face away from one another if it would be easier.”

“That’s okay,” Harry shook his head, “I mean, there isn’t really a point, is there? Not when we’ll be…consummating the bond soon anyway.”

“Oh, I meant to tell you earlier, but you look amazing,” Draco said, indicating the new clothes Harry was wearing, “I got distracted by, well, you.”

Harry felt his face flushing again and chose to ignore the compliment, for the simple reason that he didn’t know how to respond. Instead, he busied himself with removing his clothes. He hung the cloak over a tree branch, and his robes quickly followed. Knowing that sex would be part of The Ritual, Harry had chosen not to wear anything beneath the robes, and so his boots were the last thing he had to remove, and he made sure to be standing by the crystals so that his feet didn’t get frostbite.

Glancing up, Harry saw that Draco had also finished undressing, and his grey eyes were eagerly taking in Harry’s naked form. Harry ignored his renewed blush and returned the favor, allowing his eyes to rove Draco’s body, taking in the pale skin and Quidditch-toned muscles. Draco was slightly broader, Harry noticed, and then his gaze travelled down until they landed on Draco’s cock, semi-erect and nestled amongst pale curls. Harry suddenly remembered where that cock would soon be going, and he gulped at the idea of that thickness entering his body.

“Hey,” the soft voice had Harry looking up, and his gaze was caught by Draco’s, “I’ll make sure you’re ready. It’s nothing to worry about, okay?” Harry nodded silently, not at all sure, but knowing that the time to back out had already passed. Draco gave him a knowing look, but chose not to comment. Instead, he picked up the two amulets, draping one around his neck and holding the other one out for Harry. Harry held out his cupped hands, and Draco allowed the amulet to drop into them, then watched as Harry slipped it over his head. The two moved over to the chalice and knelt on either side of it, mirroring one another as they picked up the daggers. Harry held his wrist over the chalice and cut his wrist, vaguely aware of Draco doing the same. Then, he focused his thoughts.

_I want all of Voldemort’s soul shards destroyed. I want our world to have a chance at peace. I want my friends to be safe. I want Voldemort to be gone, with no chance of returning._

Harry’s thoughts followed a similar pattern until he saw the chalice begin to glow, and he felt magic heal the cut on his wrist. Harry kept his gaze on the chalice, and reached out to pick it up the second the glow began to fade; as the submissive for the purposes of The Ritual, Harry was required to complete each action first, as a way to demonstrate his willingness. He tipped the cup and was surprised to find that the liquid inside was warm and sweet, without even a hint of blood in the flavor. He closed his eyes and drank until he felt full to brimming with golden light, and then passed the chalice to Draco. As he did so, Harry caught sight of his own hand and realized that he was actually glowing with golden light; when Draco drank his portion of the mixture, he began to glow with a silver light. When the blond set the chalice down, Harry saw that his eyes were also glowing silver, and he had the brief thought that their glows were probably bright enough to light up the whole clearing.

That thought vanished, however, when Draco nodded, indicating that it was time to enter the ritual circle. He got to his feet and turned his back on Draco, demonstrating his trust of the blond, and stepped into the circle of crystals. He knelt facing the bridge and closed his eyes, recalling the promise he had to make.

“I swear on my magic and blood that I am entering this ritual of my own free will,” Harry began, “I offer myself and my magic to Draco Malfoy in return for having the power to free the world from the evil that is Lord Voldemort. From this day forward I will give my heart, body and magic to Draco Malfoy, wholeheartedly and without reservation, and I swear to be faithful only to him, so mote it be.”

“I, Draco Malfoy, accept the oath given by Harry Potter,” Draco answered, “In return for his faithfulness, I grant him access to my own magic, so that we can free the world from the evil that is the Dark Lord Voldemort. I will honor his oath, and protect that which he has given into my keeping with everything that I have. From this day forth, I swear to be faithful only to Harry Potter, so mote it be.”

Harry felt magic swirling around them, and he leaned forward, resting his upper body on the ground. He felt exposed, and took several deep breaths to calm himself. He felt Draco’s warmth as the blond settled behind him, but he still startled when Draco skimmed his hands up his, Harry’s sides, before settling on his ass. Draco took a few minutes to massage the mounds of flesh until Harry relaxed slightly, and then he pried Harry’s cheeks apart to press his thumb against the furled hole. Harry closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing; he had done this himself when wanking, but only a finger or two, and he was nervous.

Then, he felt the magic around them shift, and Draco’s finger became slick against his opening, sliding in easily. The magic had taken it upon itself to make things easier for the soon-to-be lover’s, providing ample lubrication. Draco was easily able to slip two fingers inside, and he began to carefully stretch his lover, twisting and scissoring his fingers so that the tight ring of muscle slowly relaxed. Harry trembled beneath him, biting his lip to prevent himself from making any noise, afraid that it would make the ritual fail. Then, Draco’s fingers brushed against his prostate, and Harry couldn’t stop himself from crying out in pleasure. Draco gave a soft chuckle behind him, and reached around to stroke Harry’s erection as he added another finger and continued to work him open. Harry moaned and arched into his lover’s touch, forgetting his plans to be silent as he lost himself to pleasure.

When Draco removed his fingers, Harry couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped, nor could he help pushing back to follow them. A firm hand on his lower back kept Harry in place, and then he felt something much larger at his entrance. He focused on his breathing as he was breached, fighting to stay relaxed even as he found himself in a world of pressure. Draco moved slowly, and kept stroking Harry’s erection to provide a distraction from the pain. When he finally bottomed out, Draco stilled, leaning forward so that he could press kisses to the back of Harry’s neck. Draco’s hands moved to Harry’s sides and stroked over them soothingly until Harry arched back against his lover, signaling that it was okay to move.

Draco didn’t hesitate, but took Harry’s hips in a firm grip and moved slowly out, stopping with just the tip of his erection still inside Harry’s tight channel, and then sliding just as slowly back inside. He did this several times, until Harry began moving restlessly beneath him. Draco took the hint and tightened his grip as he increased his pace, trying out different angles as he searched for the spot that would have Harry seeing stars. When he found it, Draco kept to that angle even as he reached under Harry to begin stroking his cock again. It didn’t take long before they were both falling over the edge, the magic surrounding them spurring them on so that they found their release simultaneously.

“Fuck, Draco!” Harry cried; he could feel magic spilling into him along with Draco’s release, and then their combined magic burst from every pore in Harry’s body. He felt a slight pain in his scar, and then his world was swallowed by a blinding light.

December 22

 

Harry and Draco remained unconscious for the rest of the night, and awakened back in the room they had been sharing over the past week. A letter from Professor McGonagall assured them that they had been successful, and Voldemort was no more. Those who followed Voldemort out of fear found that their Dark Marks had vanished, while the loyal Death Eaters now had blackened skin where the mark used to be. She congratulated them on a job well done, and urged them to enjoy the rest of their holidays, with a promise to have a new room ready for them when they returned after the first of the year.

Narcissa had also sent a letter to congratulate Harry and Draco, and she welcomed Harry into the family, promising to plan a proper ceremony for the summer. She also said that they were in the Black Estate in Germany, and that the house was a wedding gift for them. They were not, she added, confined to one set of rooms this time. She ended the letter by informing them that they were expected at the Manor on Christmas Eve, and that they could return to their honeymoon after Christmas dinner the following day. The Weasley’s, she said, had also been invited.

Harry and Draco, after eating breakfast, shared a not-so-quick shower, during which they took the time to learn each other’s bodies at a more leisurely pace. After they were done, they set out to explore their new estate, and promptly got into an argument which escalated to a duel. The duel quickly devolved into a physical fight when Harry hexed Draco’s hair pink, and that quickly turned into Harry being bent over the nearest piece of furniture (a counter in the kitchen) and receiving a fast, hard shag.

When both boys were sated, lying in a tangle of limbs on the floor, Harry found himself thinking about his future. For the first time in his life, he was actually looking forward to the future, and sharing his life with Draco. He gave a happy sigh and sat up, only to accidentally elbow Draco. Draco, of course, didn’t believe that it was an accident, and retaliated by biting him on the shoulder…and soon they were wrapped around each other once more. Well, Harry thought, as he held Draco’s hips down and swallowed around his erection, at least life would never be boring.


End file.
